Isabella
by Jane McBrennen
Summary: Isabella comes back to Wuthering Heights shortly after Linton's death, apparently alive and well, and demanding a divorce. In fact, she won't leave until she gets one. What will Heathcliff do? AU. Heathcliff/Isabella Hareton/Cathy.
1. She's Back

_**Isabella**_

**A/N: Bella's back! Heathcliff/Isabella, Hareton/Cathy. **

**Chapter 1: "She's Back."**

* * *

**1800**

Heathcliff backhanded Catherine and she landed hard on the floor. She put a hand to her cheek where a bruise was sure to form.

"Next time mind your manners, girl, or I'll do worse than hit you," he said with a sneer of disgust.

"What worse could you possibly do?" she shouted. "You've taken everything and now you beat me!"

He laughed, a dark sound.

"One day I'll show you what a real beating feels like, eh, girl?" he said, kicking her in the stomach.

She made a small noise of protest but another slap silenced her. Then he heard the sounds of a carriage pulling up before the house. He looked out the kitchen window and saw a very fine carriage stopped at the gate. A lost traveler looking for Thruscross Grange?

"What the devil…" he muttered. "Joseph! There's someone at the gate! Go see what they want!"

"Lord preserve us!" the old man said under his breath, going out into the harsh wind. "Who goes there?"

Heathcliff couldn't hear what was being said but he watched with interest, and then irritation, as the driver got down and opened the door. A large man, an absolute behemoth, alighted from the carriage. He was a true gentleman of the finest quality if his clothes were anything to tell by. He helped a lady in a green frock out of the carriage and Heathcliff tried to see her face but the man's damned head was in the way, then his whole body. There was something about the lady's figure that was strikingly familiar. And then the behemoth moved and he saw her face, so much more beautiful than the last time he'd seen it when it was covered in bruises.

"_Isabella…_" he whispered.


	2. Bella

_**Isabella**_

**Chapter 2: "Bella." **

**A/N: Bella's back! Guess what she wants from Heathcliff... You'll have to read and see! **

He was seeing a ghost, surely! Isabella was dead and had been for some time now. But there she stood, more beautiful and alive than she'd ever been. She was heavenly beautiful, just as an apparition before him. But she was real. She had to be real. She couldn't be standing by the gate, directing for her trunk to be taken from the carriage, if she wasn't real.

He left the kitchen and went outside to get a closer look. He stood in the doorway for a moment before slowly moving forward, step after step, toward Isabella. She saw him and froze, their eyes locked. Hers were cold, nothing like the eyes of his simpering bride of eighteen years ago. But it was she. He would never mistake her for anyone in the world. He swallowed thickly, memories consuming him. He remembered all the beatings he'd given her, the way he'd forcefully taken her on their wedding night and the pain she'd suffered for, for he wasn't gentle with her. But he remembered especially every hateful word and look she'd ever sent his way. There was none of that in her eyes now, merely cold indifference. He wanted to wipe that look from her eyes, put burning hatred there instead, put some spark into them. Something other than that cold apathy. He had missed kicking her, missed her sobs, had even missed her though he would be loathe to admit it. He damned himself to hell for such traitorous thoughts but they were there to stay nonetheless.

She turned to the behemoth and said something he couldn't hear. The behemoth turned to him, a look of contempt in his eyes. The behemoth blocked his view of Isabella but she stepped around the huge man and ran through the open gate.

"Bella!" the behemoth shouted, trying to catch her arm and failing.

She stopped running only when she was in front of Heathcliff. For a while they said nothing, merely stared into each other's eyes. He still couldn't believe she was real.

He reached out a hand to touch her face to see if she truly was real, but his skin hadn't even brushed hers when she turned away, taking a deep breath. She turned back to him with a forced smile, and it was obvious that she wasn't trying to hide its falseness.

"Hello, husband," she said lightly, forced cheerfulness and sarcasm lacing her voice. "As you can see, I have returned. After eighteen years, I have finally returned to your loving arms. What? No kisses? No words of welcome? I know I was naughty for leaving you but surely after all this time you're not going to hold a grudge."

"You're alive," he said hoarsely.

"Yes, didn't you know? Oh, that's right, you weren't supposed to know," she said with a nasty smile that made her look cunning. "We staged the whole thing, Edgar and I. He and I made up you know, at least for the most part."

"Linton's dead," he said, still hoarse.

He didn't know why he said it. To hurt her probably. He didn't want to examine his feelings too closely at the moment. They were a mess.

Her eyes grew several degrees colder if possible. She drew herself up to her full height and breathed deeply. She was about to speak when the behemoth walked up behind her and stepped between them, damn him.

"I'm James Lexington, Duke of Norrington, Bella's _friend_," the behemoth said with relish.

"Go to the devil," Heathcliff said.

"James, please step aside so I may speak with my husband," Isabella said politely.

Who was this Lexington to call his wife Bella? Heathcliff felt a wave of possessiveness overtake him. It wasn't because he loved Isabella. No, but she was his and he'd be damned if another man would have her.

He raised his hand to hit the behemoth when Isabella stepped around the huge man and stood in front of Heathcliff, who was significantly smaller than her friend.

"Heathcliff," she said with that same forced, sarcastic smile. "Let's make this very simple, shall we? The king has granted me a divorce. All you have to do is sign the papers."

"You can go to the devil too!" he shouted.

Lexington moved forward to knock him down but Isabella put her hand up and the movement froze Lexington in his tracks. What power did she have over this man? The idea of frail little Isabella being able to command any man baffled him. Was this behemoth such a milksop that he took orders from someone like her?

"Heathcliff," she said, her voice hard, an edge to it, "we're not leaving until you sign those papers."

"By all means, stay if you think you have the stomach to take the blows. You certainly didn't last time," he said.

"I deserve that I suppose," she said lightly. "I did leave you. But I only did so to protect Linton."

"I would have stopped hitting you if I'd known you were carrying my child," he said irritably.

"Somehow I very much doubt that," she said coldly. "Regardless, Lexington, my entourage and I will be staying until you sign the divorce papers. When you do we will leave you in peace."

"Entourage?" he asked.

"They will be arriving within the hour," she said with a wicked smile. "Until you choose to end our marriage, I will be taking my rightful place as mistress of Wuthering Heights. You cannot expect me to run our house without proper servants."

"You're not bringing your band of gypsies into my house!" Heathcliff shouted.

"Coming from a gypsy in gentleman's clothing, that's rich!" she yelled back.

He raised his hand to strike her but Lexington pulled her behind him and raised his hand to strike Heathcliff.

"Don't! He has every right to strike me!" she said imperially.

Lexington turned to her and took her by the shoulders fiercely.

"You cannot expect me to watch while he beats you!" the behemoth cried.

"Release my wife, you dog!" Heathcliff said, picking up a stick and raising it threateningly.

Lexington rolled his eyes and raised his hand to swat the smaller man away.

"Enough, both of you!" Isabella said, looking from one man to the other. "James, as my husband he has every right to strike me. If I can bear if then you must."

"I cannot! I will not!" Lexington said.

"You _must!_" Isabella said. "It is not a discussion! You _will_ do as I say, James!"

She was a force to be reckoned with, Heathcliff would give her that. There was a storm brewing behind those cornflower eyes. He had never seen her so in control before. It made him want to fuck her.

Lexington sighed, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

"As you wish, Bella," Lexington said dismally.

"Thank you, James," Bella said gratefully, looking at Lexington as though he'd hung the moon for her.

Anger shot through Heathcliff. Why were she and Lexington so familiar? Were they lovers? The thought infuriated him and he wanted to break both their necks, and see them go to the devil. He would control himself though. For now. The behemoth outmatched him in brawn but he would outsmart the large man and be the behemoth's downfall.

"Get your things and come inside, Isabella," Heathcliff ordered, using her name instead of a curse word for once to show that he too was on intimate terms with her.

"Yes, husband," she said coolly. "Joseph, get Hareton out here so he can help with the trunks! James, if you would be so kind, get my valise. I want my sewing from it."

James got the valise and put his hand on the small of Isabella's back, leading her forward. They went into the house, and Heathcliff followed, scowling, kicking at rocks.


End file.
